


DIEMONDS

by Analphancones



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: $crim - Freeform, Angst, Drugs, M/M, Music, Poetry, Rap, Scarlxrd, Sexual Themes, Traveling, Well - Freeform, a little sad, im taken a step back from smut, joji - Freeform, lets be real im a porn writer, no smut tho, original lyrics, other rappers, pink guy - Freeform, refrences, ruby da cherry - Freeform, suicideboys, there finna be porn, watsky, xxxtentacion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2019-09-13 11:54:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 16,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Analphancones/pseuds/Analphancones
Summary: Dan is a rapper on tour when he meets Phil.Then suddenly Dan is a rapper on the brink of the edge, meeting Phil for the first time really.





	1. Three Grand And Two Blunts

One of the rules is to never catch feelings. It’s what you tell yourself when you’re city to city, bitch to bitch, life to life. Then you meet someone. Not a fan, not backstage. In a convenience store picking up cigarettes. 

“Marlboro Ice.” I had said, pulling my wallet from my back pocket and grabbing a twenty. I bought cigarettes in packs of three. I tossed the money on the counter and waited for the guy to turn his back, eyeing the cigarettes. “ And a thing a swishers.” I added as the hubby clerk pawed my cigarettes off the shelf. His arm went up to flick a two pack of flavored cigars for me, throwing them down as he rang me up. 

“That gonna be all?” He asked, picking up my discarded twenty from the counter. I nodded, resting an arm on the flat countertop and looking around. Outside was a car we had rented, a 2012 Mazda6. It was one of my favorite cars ever since an ex girlfriend of mine drove one. Always reminded me of my first love. 

I grabbed my purchased items and exited to the car, seeing my friends had already gotten done pumping the gas. It was nice to tour with friends. They had all been featured on my most recent album. It was cool to get paid to travel with your best friends for six months. I guess I got lucky. 

“Gimme one of them Marlboro’s.” Tommy said, his typical smirk on his face. 

“You know.” I said as I ripped off the cellophane. “You have money now. You can stop smoking fucking eagle twenties.” I handed him one. 

“I would but they keep me humble, remind me of before we had money.” He said and I rolled my eyes, pulling the car out from the gas pumping area and toward the back of the store where it was harder to be seen. I handed the swishers to Tommy so he could roll a couple, rolling down my window enough to light a cigarette. 

“Where’s Gus?” I asked. He wasn’t in the car when I got back. It took me until just then to notice. 

“Dipped for a call. Some british bitch he met last night was nearby, Lyla or something. Guess she lives round here.” Tommy shrugged, licking the wrap shut as carefully as one would lift a newborn. I loved that about him, how precise he was with everything he loved. Dude would roll a blunt four times before he was happy with it, do 100 takes of the same line before putting it into a song, but wouldn’t take out his trash for six months until it started to stink. He cared about what he cared about. It was interesting. 

He handed me the first rolled blunt, letting me light it and taking a couple hits before handing it to Victor. “Shit where’d you get this?” He choked a bit, handing it back. 

“Gus got it last night.” I shrugged. “Ask him. He’s the king of Finding Drugs Anywhere.” I laughed softly, rolling up my window so we could hot box the car. Thankfully the sun was going down quickly so we’d be hard to detect if someone happened to go behind the store. 

“Gus is gonna get himself killed someday.” Victor shook his head, sighing deeply and he took another deep hit. 

Eventually, two blunts down we were all cigarette in hand and Gus had returned to us. Hours has passed, checking my phone is was close to four in the morning now. We were all laughing at how Gus returned covered in lipstick and hickeys, eyes bloodshot. I didn’t know if he was geeked or in love. Maybe both. 

“Think you can still do our show tomorrow or does the pussy got you in a trance?” I asked him, snickering as smoke passed through my lips. 

“She had a boyfriend.” He told us, lighting one of my Marlboro’s and leaning back. He slid his hand down his thigh, shaking his head. “It was like those fucking pornos where the dude he fucking the girl while the other dude fucks the guy.” 

“It was a bisexual fantasy!” My body lunged forward as I laughed. “Damn, Gus.” I reached back to low-five him. He chuckled and hit by hand, a smack echoing off the glass windows of the car. 

He uncapped a warm forty off the ground and took a swig. “In three months we’re going to be in America again.” He said. “I’m so excited to go home.” He whistled a bit. 

“Yeah..Yeah I am excited for that. Being back in England reminds me of exactly why I left.” I chuckled, all of our laughter startled by a knock on the car window.

I gulped, rolling down the window and watching the smoke pour out. A guy dressed in the same uniform as the guy who gave me my cigarettes earlier shook his head, looking at us. “The store is closing until seven, so you guys might wanna leave.” He said. 

“You closing?” Victor asked, leaning over me. 

“Yeah.” 

“I used to close every fuckin’ night when I worked at Kum and Go back in america. Lotta hard work isn’t it?” He smirked. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Especially kicking out rappers who smoke i my parking lot. I should call police.” 

“I’ll give you three grand and smoke a blunt with you if you dip.” Victor said. He loved doing this when we mt employees with shit jobs. Offer some money and drugs, hang out and meet some new people. It was one of the weirdly charitable ways he spent his money. 

“You can’t be serious.” He rolled his eyes but his lips twitched into a hopeful smile. 

“How about four grand and two blunts?” He asked, squinting to read his name tag. “How’s that sound, Phil?” 

“Fuck it.” He sighed and opened the back door. Gus and Tommy cheered, moving over to let him in and smacking his back gently, handing him a blunt. 

“Damn I expected you to be more of a hard ass and say no.” I chuckled, placing my cigarette between my teeth and starting the car. “I’m Dan by the way. Victor is who owes you money and-” 

“No I know who you guys are. My little brother is fucking obsessed.” He said. “Mostly with Gus and Dan but the rest of you guys are there too.” 

“Look at that Peep we’re taking over the minds of kids now.” I laughed, pulling out onto the highway.


	2. You Much Of A Risk Taker?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “"You much of a risk taker?” I asked back, leaning in just slightly. 
> 
> He only smiled, shrugging and locking our lips together with such shocking fluidity my mind had no time to react. He pulled back enough to give me time as if he knew what he had just done to my brain, as if he expected to fry my circuit. All before reattaching us and this time pulling me toward him by the waist."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snapchat for updates- analphancones

Standing on a balcony at three in the morning, I think normally I’d be alone. Everyone in our small group falls asleep. Except maybe Gus. When we spend late nights and days on end getting messed up, playing shows, everyone usually crashed at once. Not me. 

I stay asleep when they rise finally. Maybe it’s because it’s the only time I get to be alone. Yet, if that was the case, why am I enjoying having Phil here with me so much? 

Sometimes when we let people road with us they leave after a few days. Our lifestyle isn’t for everyone. Yet two weeks from heading home to America, he’s still here with us. He’s growing on me a lot as a friend. I wonder if he’d ever do music. He fits in so well. I don’t want to leave him behind. He’s the only person we’ve met in so long who fits in so well. 

“Okay, okay.” He took a sip off the bottle of a beer. “What’s one thing about all of you that you think fans wouldn’t expect?” He asked me, smiling and turning his attention to look down below at the streets. 

“We’re actually like, all giant ucking nerds.” I said, flicking my cigarette away from us over the edge. His attention snaps back to me, laughing again. 

“What do you mean, elaborate.” 

“Like when we’re home in between touring we don’t party so hard or have sex or whatever. Peep does but he also goes home to see his mum and shit. I usually just..watch anime and don’t leave my house?” I laughed. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. I’m actually so antisocial. I order all my food, stay up binging Shane Dawson conspiracy videos. I read fanfiction..I’m nothing like this off tour.” I smiled, pushing up my bangs and taking a drink from my own beer. 

“That’s so shocking to me..” He smiled softly. “I see you guys on magazines and posters and in music videos..you watch anime? What are you watching right now?”

“Deadman Wonderland.” I said with a nod. His mouth about fell open with excitement, slapping the edge of the fencing, almost choking on his drink.

“I fucking LOVE that.” He said after he finally managed to swallow. “My brother has been a fan since day one, you know.” He said. 

“You mentioned it, yeah.” I smiled. 

“He thinks you’re really hard, I think.” He said with a grin. “Which is not the case at all. Gus and Victor and everyone is railing lines and you’re just...so mellow. How’d you get into this scene?” 

“I never really liked rap music, but I loved the poetry behind it. Always been a poetry nerd. So I kind of wanted t bring more attention to the spoken word side of shit and the lyrics behind rap culture. I guess I fell into this crowd when I released a few songs about my sex life.” 

“How would THAT draw you into this side of the scene?” He asked curiously, looking at me thoughtfully. 

“Gus reached out to me about being bisexual himself and how cool it was as a rapper to not just be talking about fucking women and pussy and ass. He told me how it was cool that I could still sound tough and like a strong rapper while talking about bottoming.’ 

“N what fucking song do you talk about bottoming?” He laughed softly, his smile toward me something I wish I could photograph then and there. I never wanted to forget. 

“It was a good line.” I laughed, taking a long drink and clearing my throat. “It went- “Now I can’t say I aint fuck on the road, but I can say I aint always after those hoes. I’ll let a nigga fuck me and I’ll still be gone ‘fore morning. Spend so much time dragging women for getting fucked, so you ain’t gon hype me up, when I’m in the back of a tour bus, lip locked with eight inches of lust.”” 

“You really fucking went there.” He laughed quietly. “You actually released that?” 

“Well, yeah.” I shrugged. “I was pretty small back then and figured before I took off, I wanted fans to know they can’t just like me for when I rap about doing drugs and getting depressed over women. That someday if they ever see me with a man, they signed up for this and homophobia against me or my music won’t be tolerated.” I shrugged softly. 

“Peep is bi too?” He asked. 

“Yeah, actually we were hooking up in ur earlier days. But he met this girl, fell pretty hard and I focused on my music. He’s still one of my best friends.” I shrugged again. 

“You’re nothing like I expected.” He said, almost breathlessly. 

“Same to you.’ I tipped my drink to him. “I expected someone much more uptight.” 

“I guess I expected someone more loose.” He jokingly winked, setting down his drink. “I hate that you’re leaving soon.” 

“Me too..I didn’t expect to meet someone so cool.” I chuckled, looking at him. I put my hand on the rail, his own and somehow finding its way over mine. His thumb gently swiped back and forth over the back of my hand, our eyes locked. “Think you’d ever come with us?” I let slip. 

He shrugged gently, looking at me solemnly. His expression was unreadable. “Guess risks need to be taken sometimes, right?” He asked slowly, like the words weren’t coming to him naturally. 

“You much of a risk taker?” I asked back, leaning in just slightly. 

He only smiled, shrugging and locking our lips together with such shocking fluidity my mind had no time to react. He pulled back enough to give me time as if he knew what he had just done to my brain, as if he expected to fry my circuit. All before reattaching us and this time pulling me toward him by the waist. 

I guess I got my answer.


	3. "I Think I'm In Love With You"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Phil?” I said softly. 
> 
> “Yeah?” 
> 
> “I think I’m in love with you..”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snapchat to see when I post and more about me as a writer and person lol- analphancones
> 
> Also credit to myself for Dan's verse, and Lil Peep (Gus) and SuicideBoys. Soz I'm a fan an used ur lyrics boys.

Our last show in the U.K. was a feature with SuicideBoys. While I wasn’t too close with either of them, smoking a blunt backstage with Oddy was pretty cool. He was a calm and knd person, not like his cousin who was more on edge and a little more like Peep. Not that I had an issue with that. I loved them both as friends and musicians. It’s just a vibe I get along with slightly less. 

“Danny tell you he has someone special in the audience?” Tommy said, approaching us on the couch we sat on. “So don’t fuck up our set, guys.’ He said jokingly. 

Oddy laughed softly, blowing smoke into my face as he moved to turn to me. “You fuck with love? Love that. Tell me about the bitch.” He said, passing the half smoked backwood. 

“Tell me about why we smokin a backwood?” I rebutted, taking a long drag. 

“It’s all we had!” He defended. 

“I thought you two only used swishers?” I continued to mock him, chuckling as I handed it back. “I’m only fuckn’ ‘round. Bloke we met at a gas station, Phil. Not a rapper but not like other people who aren’t in our scene. More chill, down to earth, down for anything..” I smiled a bit. 

“Dan’s got a full blown fuckin’ crush.” Tommy continued. “Gus saw the lovebirds kissing the other night.” 

“Did a lot more than kiss if you ask me!” Peep overheard us as he entered the room, smirking and putting a cigarette out in a nearby tray. “Heard it all.” 

“Impressive. You got your fag shit on point this week, I’m a fan.” Oddy chuckled slowly. “Don’t worry we’re only opening for you while we pass through.” 

“Carrollton is a helluva opener.” I whistled softly. 

“Followed by Second Hand and then Peep gets his ass out there with Benz Truck?” Tommy grinned. “I’m fucking psyched for this set. I’ve been tryna get Ruby Da Cherry and “Its Scrim B!” on my stage since I started this gig.” I laughed loudly at his throwback t scrims old intro to his music, Oddy getting a chuckle out of it himself.

“Personally I wanna do a rendition of shark attack.” Gus chuckled softly, smiling at him. 

“I’ll fucking duet it with your ass if you can get the sound guy to play the track.” Oddy said seriously, leaning forward to drop the roach of the blunt into a can. 

“You serious?” Peep asked. Oddy nodded as he stood. “Better hurry though. SCOTT!” He shouted. “Come on we almost fuckin’ on!” He said, running up the stairs. 

“I gotta get that track!” Peep laughed loudly, rushing behind them to plead with the sound guy. 

Tommy sat next to me, looking at me softly as the track to Carrollton started booming through the building. “You stoked? Sad? What’re you feeling? Last show in England before we go home!” 

“I’m thinking I wanna take Phil to America with us.” I said soft and serious, looking at him deadass. 

“Really?” He whistled softly and shrugged. “Whatever you want man..I mean really. You like him? Might as well see where it go. You’re paying for his expenses though.” He smirked with a laugh. 

“Well, fucking duh.” I nodded, rolling my eyes as a smile grew on my face. “I just really like him..and I think he likes me? His whole life is here and he already agreed to go with me..he thinks I’m worth all that?” I smiled, losing myself in thought as Tommy lit a cigarrette, just listening to me speak. 

“..bite the head off a bat like I'm Ozzy  
You got a problem motherfucker? Come and try me  
I'm nothing like what you punk boys wanna embody  
Norf, Norf, East Side '59  
Tony gripping Tommy  
Fuck around end up with your body, autopsy  
I be that walking zombie, bath salts  
Eating bodies…”

“They’re really fucking killing it out there.” I smiled at the cheers from the audience. 

“They usually do.” Tommy grinned. “I’ve been a fan for so long..it’s so wack I’m their friend. They’re in MY show. I’m..amazed.” We paused, sitting in silence as the music continued on, my favorite line playing and a smile growing on my face. 

“Yes!” I laughed, singing along with Tommy. We really were fans at heart.

 

“Drugs got me fucked up,  
Sluts got me drugged up,   
FUCK.   
Slam my face against a pil   
To crush it up.   
Government ID helps me get high,  
Seeing stars in the mirror   
Like I’m lookin with a pipe beam.   
Lime green paint but the rims lookin’ Spike Lee.   
Might be sloppy,  
Might be cocky,   
Am I in the right scene?  
Highly unlikely,  
But I’m willin’ to fuckin’ bet.  
LEAVE A PUSSY WET|  
THEN I LEAVE A PUSSY WET!” 

“You know what I love about that line? It doesn’t even rhyme but does it have too? Nah. Because it’s fucking RUBY DA CHERRY OPENING FOR US FOR FUCKS SAKE!” Tommy laughed wildly, smacking the arm of the chair joyously. 

\-------------------

“Im shark attack,  
Bitch you ever see one in the summer?   
It’s gettin’ dark,   
Mark the coordinates cuz here I come  
To rip the track to shreds until it motherfuckin slumbers.” 

\--------------------

“Lil bo peep with a brand new bitch,   
In the back of the club with the gothboiclique.   
Iced teef  
Want an iced out whip,   
With the limousine tints  
You can suck my dick.” 

\---------------------

Finally my set came time. I rushed out on stage, adrenaline pumping, my heart beating out of my chest as I cried out into the microphone to hype up the audience. The beat started playing in what felt like with rhythm to my heart beating, the words pouring from my lips like they had a thousand times before. 

A song I had wrote on the fly a few years ago about coming to terms with no longer being with an ex lover, but now being friends. 

“Yeah,   
I don’t wanna show somebody new   
The pictures in my room.   
Old photos of you.  
I don’t wanna spill my guts.   
I say too much.   
I’m kind of a clutz. 

And,  
I don’t wanna go on dates,   
Or leave it up to fate.   
And I don’t wanna have to fake,   
An orgasm or three,   
Because it feels like I never been with someone who wants me. 

But I been with someone who was thnkin’ bout someone else.   
I shoulda been offended yet I thought so low of myself,  
It was okay when they closed they eyes and saw that someone else.” 

But I changed the lyrics just two days ago, after the chorus. Because I knew Phil would be at the show. I met eyes with him in the front row, winking and pointing. As cheesy as it was, he turned bright red and the audience screamed as the changed lyrics came out of my mouth. 

“Now I’m with you  
Kinda.   
Someone who can’t seem to  
Finda,   
Flaw on my body,   
My mind or personality. 

And it’s kinda refreshing. 

I don’t worry about how I be lookin’,   
Cuz I know I ain’t lookin’ stupid.   
I know to you I aint lookin’ bad,   
But you tell me baby you be lookin /bad/.   
And when I look back,   
On those few months ago in tha past,   
I’m greatful you caught me on that,   
Bullshit because now we here, where we at.” 

My outro played and the music faded into the next track which was for Tommy and Victor and I exited the stage, telling one of the security guards to tell Phil to come back stage I pointed him out and walked away, drinking some water and catching my breath before I lit a cigarrette and sat down on the couch. 

Phil walked in with a sheepish smile on his face, sitting next to me. 

“You changed the song.”

“I wanted you and maybe the world to know..just how into you I am.” I now was just as bashful, a red blush tinting my pale cheeks. 

“I’ve really given it some thought..about going to America.” He said softly. 

“Yeah?” I asked, hopeful. The music was loud but yet all I could focus on was him, my brain tuning out any and everything that wasn’t his voice saying yes. 

“I wanna go.” He smiled and I leaped toward him, kissing him with all the gratitude and infatuation I had for him that I could possibly show. Three months almost four of him nonstop, I can’t imagine being without him. I hugged him tightly, leaning on his chest. 

“Phil?” I said softly. 

“Yeah?” 

“I think I’m in love with you..”


	4. Maybe Too Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“I’ve never met someone as nice as you.” He kissed the top of my head, the conversation stopping there as I slipped into unconsciousness. 
> 
> Our first few months together in my home were brilliant. He adjusted well to my lifestyle. Maybe too well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snapchat to learn when I update- analphancones

America became my home very quickly when I moved. I loved the diversity. Seeing a girl with a spray tan in England, you knew it was fake. Here, you can only tell when it’s orange. And even then being in L.A., some people just sunburn orange. 

I love in L.A. how hard it is to clock people. Ou never just /know/ who someone is, or where they came from. In England the accent is enough to tell. Yet here I’ve met valley girls who are actually from North Carolina. They had just decided to ditch the accent. I liked that a lot. 

I liked that this was the city folk chose to go to in order to reinvent. I was no different. 

When people here meet me they don’t even guess I’m actually british. I guess much like the country girls who come here to be singers, models or actresses, I also dropped my accent in order to reinvent. I find it funny how most people won’t take a british rapper seriously. Sometimes I like to drop a verse or chorus with my posh accent full force, just to remind people they can’t pretend I’m someone different. 

I’m not some gangbanging rapper. I’m not from the hood. I wasn’t upper class and posh and going to top rated schools, no. But I am often not seen as someone who can represent the rapper branding here. Maybe I went into the wrong scene, but it was the scene I could most relate to when it came to how I wrote. So here I am. 

“How did you first know you wanted to rap?” Phil asked me. We were laying in bed, my bed in my home. A blanket draped over our naked forms, his pale skin luminescent in the dark that my eyes had adjusted too. I loved him so much already. 

“I was a poet.” I said quietly, my pale lips pressed against the smooth skin of his stomach. I dragged my nails over him gently as I sat up, leaning my head on his shoulder so he could hear me better. “When you’re a slam poet it’s hard to get attention. You’re always gay, or a social justice warrior, or a liberal..” I rolled my eyes gently. “Then when people find out you smoke weed, or cigarettes, or are anything but some posh wanting attention teen girl, the stereotypes behind poetry get even worse. You’re just some voice everyone wants to ignore because stereotypes.” 

“So you were already writing songs, you just showed them to the world differently.” He nodded slowly, his fingers moving through the back of my hair slowly. “I would have loved to see one of your shows.” 

“Yeah..but nobody cares about poetry. I was posting videos of my shows on YouTube, which got..moderate attention, sure. But one day I jokingly posted this video...of me rapping a cover of this other guys work. Great writer, used to be poet turned rapper just like me.” 

“The pale kid raps fast thing yeah, when Watsky blew up.” He nodded. 

“Yeah, exactly. That video took off weirdly quick and ever since I just...adapted all my works into rap music. I wanted my writing out there and this was the most successful method. And I oddly enjoy it..even more than I enjoyed being just a poet. This is so much more exciting snd intelligent and freeing of a scene to be in.”

“You’re on a weird underground side of things though.” He said thoughtfully, dragging his nails gently against my scalp. He knew how much I loved when he did that. I purred gently, closing my eyes and snuggling closer to him. 

“I never liked the side of rap that glorifies vaping and smoking weed as if it’s cool. I liked the side that showed self medicating and addiction and the reality of struggle. Whether it be mentally or financially or..physically. Shit, Nicki Minaj bless her soul would never rap about fucking a guy with erectile dysfunction because it makes her look bad. I don’t give a fuck though. I got a whole album focusing on ex lovers who disappointed me. It took me eight partners and six years of having sex before I so much as even got good head.” I shrugged. “I like real people. My side of the scene is as real as it gets.” 

“What’s the hardest part about living in L.A?” He asked me next. I took a deep breath and shrugged, opening my eyes and looking up at him. “How if you’re nice people tear you down. Nice people are almost not welcome here.” 

“I’ve never met someone as nice as you.” He kissed the top of my head, the conversation stopping there as I slipped into unconsciousness. 

Our first few months together in my home were brilliant. He adjusted well to my lifestyle. Maybe too well.


	5. Eight Months Of Dreaming, The Remainder Of The Two Years A Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I guess this was the first step of my fantasy falling apart. 
> 
> Eight months of dreaming, the remainder of the two years a nightmare."

I guess getting my nails done yellow isn’t something every rapper would do. But it is something I, Dan Howell, would do. That’s all that mattered to me. 

I caught an uber and was heading home, trying to get ahold of Phil. He wasn’t answering his phone. He never did when I was out of the house. I texted him instead and he immediately replies, saying he loved me and couldn’t wait to see me. Sometimes I wished he liked phone calls because I had been gone all day and missed his voice. It was whatever though, I’d see him in just twenty minutes according to gps. 

It had been eight months since we met. Five since we had been here in America. He liked it here enough. Mostly for all the same reasons I did. I think he liked having money too. He liked our friends. He liked making new friends. 

I loved him. I wondered if he loved me back. Sometimes he said so, or just a simple me too. I figured I’d give him time. Things were going so well I didn’t even have time to linger or dwell on the little things. I just loved every moment I had with him. I loved him so much, 

Next to writing I guess you could say he was my first love. I had thought myself to love other people in the past. But nothing like him. Nothing hit quite like he did. Maybe this was why Peep was an addict- 

My thoughts end up disrupted by my phone ringing, it’s Phil. “Hi baby.” I answer, the car pulling into my driveway. Why are so many cars in my lawn and driveway? Many, many cars..”I’m here, I’ll be in just a moment.” I said before he could even speak, hanging up and walking through my doors. 

Everyone was distraught, it looked like a funeral or an intervention. Everyone had something to say and no way to get it across. I cleared my throat. “Whats going on?” I asked. Tommy let out a sob. A strong man brought to tears in my living room. Victor, Tommy, even Jah was here. Someone I had only met and worked with a handful of times. 

“Gus.” Victor spoke solemnly. “You haven’t heard?” 

“I’ve been busy….what’s going on?” 

“He’s dead, Dan.” Jah told me, his eyes blank. His face was stern with solidarity. 

“He’s what?” I asked, blinking and making sure I heard him correctly. “No. No way Peep is dead. There’s just no fucking way.” 

“He OD’d, Dan...he’s fucking dead. He died in Arizona...god knows why he was there..” 

“Fuck..fuck…” I groaned, sitting down and taking it all in. Phil wrapped an arm around me to try and comfort me as much as he knew how. 

“We all wanted to be here to tell you. We know how close you two were.” Jah cleared his throat to say. We have a bunch of unreleased work together..and I know you do too. I was thinking we release what didn’t make the cut anyway...just to give fans some closure on his final thoughts.” 

“Yeah..Yeah I agree.” I nodded. “Tomorrow everyone bring in your unfinished work with Peep. I’ll get my editors to put a few things together for us to put out there. His final writings and musing are important.” I let a few tears fall from my eyes. 

I guess this was the first step of my fantasy falling apart. 

Eight months of dreaming, the remainder of the two years a nightmare.


	6. Bad Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan handles the first stage of grief as best he can, not knowing how bad things were really about to get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snapchat to know when I update- analphancones

“Shawty, heard you bad? Word, so profane,  
Something like a bad..word? Want your love,\  
Call me when you can.  
Goin' up, goin' down, in and out, turn around  
Shawty, heard you bad... word? So profane  
Somethin' like a bad, word, want your love  
Call me when you can, girl  
Goin' up, goin' down, in and out, turn around  
Love you the way you movin' now.” 

“You didn’t release that?” I turned to Jah. “Why?” 

“Felt a little to up for debate. Too short, too carelessly written. It could be about anyone and I don’t wanna write that way. But for this song...for Peep’s track..I think it works.” He said shortly. It sounded like a lot but as a person he was so vague. I loved his writing. I love how this song felt. I was thankful he agreed to put it on the track with Peep. We all missed him so much..

“So I wrote this piano-ey bit.” I changed the subject. “I felt like we could put over the already keyboard sounding track to add some depth, and then we could quiet the track itself for it on Gus’s verse.” 

“Show me what you mean.” Jah asks softly, nodding toward me and my keyboard. I nodded back, starting the track and playing my piece over it, hitting the loop button and quieting the beat after his verse finished. I then put my fingers to the keys and added on to the already looping tune. I added some base after hitting loop a second time. 

As the beat played I hit play on Peep’s track he deleted just a few weeks before, deeming it not good enough. It was a play off, or part two, of White Wine that he wanted to perfect some more. 

“I see what you mean..” He nodded once the track stopped. “What are you gonna do for your verse?” 

“I was on the White Wine Two track he didn’t like, so I’m just going to keep my verse the same. Feels weird to use tracks he deemed not good enough..” 

“I think we can make it to where wherever he is, he’ll love it.” Jah reassured me, a hand on my shoulder. I smiled a bit and nodded. “I just hope no one else dies...we’re losing people fast...it feels like.” He bit his lip. 

I nodded and stood up, stretching my back. “I need a break. Wanna roll a blunt and watch Boy Meets World?” I asked. 

“God, you know I do.” He laughed quietly, exiting the room behind me and flipping the lightswitch down. “Where’s Phil?” 

“He went shopping I think.” I shrugged. “He’ll be back later.” 

“It’s cool you met someone.” He said, sitting down and pulling the tray from under the couch. It already had some bud on it from earlier today but he added some more, grinding it with his fingers. U never did get around to buying a grinder like an adult. I guess like with Tommy’s eagle twenties, I liked the nostalgia of not owning a grinder. 

“You’ll meet someone too. Eventually, someone who isn’t a nutjob who says you hit her while she was pregnant.” 

“Can we just with how she wasn’t even pregnant?” He laughed. “Oh well. The jail time was humbling.” He chuckled, slowly folding the swisher and licking over it to keep everything flat. 

“I love how casual it is for weed smokers to smoke each others spit.” I mused, laughing as I clicked on the tv. 

“It’s almost like we’re kissing.” He smirked jokingly, passing it to me to take first hit. “Your weed, your hit.” 

“Honor among thieves, stoners and rappers. And people say there is none.” I laughed, lighting it and taking a deep drag, passing it over as our show came on and our words stopped.


	7. L.A Also Just Had A Fuck Ton of Crazy People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan notices a small distance in between him and Phil just before encountering a crazy fan at a party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snapchat for updates- analphancones

Parties in L.A. are simultaneously exactly what you think, and the exact opposite. 

I guess it wasn’t particularly my scene either, but Phil really wanted to go. So i tagged along. Cameras were everywhere down the block trying to get a photo of whoever may be attending. Months more had passed, maybe three since Gus passed. We had all respectively moved on as best as we could. Life goes on, you know? 

I wished a bit he was here though. Phil, as it turns out, is more of a social butterfly than myself. I know if Gus was still here he would be sat with me doing lines in solidarity. Parties weren’t his scene usually unless it was just his close friends. This many strangers and alcohol wasn’t his deal.

Gus and I always connected like that. We liked money and weed and being alone or with our close friends. I missed him most in situations like this. 

I couldn’t help but stare at my boyfriend from across the room. He’s chatting up a group of girls, nothing weird about that I don’t think. He looks good though. His dark hair was slicked up, a thin gold chain draped around his neck. He had gotten a nose piercing a few months ago. He always played with it when he was nervous. I wondered what he was talking about with them. 

I took a drink of my solo cup beer, a little offended and jealous. I had no reason to be, I doubt he was flirting. And if he was it’s not like he would cheat on me knowing I’m in the same house, let alone the same room. 

I felt the seat next to me dip in the couch, turning my head to see a pretty blonde girl. She had just been over talking with my boyfriend. I looked at her and smiled a bit, acknowledging her but not really looking to start a conversation. 

The minute she spoke I rolled my eyes, turning to her to pay attention even though I clearly didn’t want to talk to anyone. “You’re dating that lad over there?” She asked softly. She had a soft accent as well, maybe Australian? Then why did she look oriental? L.A. had such a vast variety of people, I was suddenly now interested. 

“Yeah, Phil.” I smiled softly. “Why?” 

“Just curious.” She shrugged softly, tucking her long hair behind her ear. “He’s not from here is he?” 

“No. Never been until we moved here together.” I said softly, nodding to my own words. 

“Mhm.” She hummed quietly, smiling a little. “I like that you’re with someone who isn’t famous. A lot of us date within the scene and shit gets messy.” 

“What do you do?” I asked. I had never seen her before. Apparently she was in this scene somehow though. 

“I’m a P.I.” She chuckled a bit. “Wouldn’t have guessed though, right?” She smiled. “You can call me Max.” She shook my hand. 

“Soooo what’re you investigating?” I asked, my interest definitely peeked now if it wasn’t before. 

“Well, I’m not really here for work. More like a middle ground. I’m engaged to somebody I got a contract to look into.” She explained. 

“Whose your fiance?” I asked. 

“Gustav Ahr.” She said. 

I laughed under my breath, deciding in my head she was in fact crazy. “He’s dead, you know that right?” 

“Somebody seems to think there was foul play.” She said softly, curling her legs up on the couch and resting her head on her hand, elbow on the back of the couch. 

“Also, he wasn’t engaged.’ 

“Call it engaged to be engaged then.’ She rolled her eyes. “Did you kill him?” 

“Jesus no!” I scoffed, rolling my eyes back. “I was with Phil all night the night he died.” 

‘You’re an ex lover.” 

“Doesn’t mean I killed him.” I stood up, looking down at her and dumping my drink on her. “Don’t ever come at me with your crazy insinuate fan shit.” I said sternly. Watching her cry out and try and wipe herself off as I walked away. 

L.A. also just had a fuckton of crazy people.


	8. Misunderstandings Don't Happen At Every Single Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He looked so good. My fingers knotted in my own hair as I stared at him like a schoolgirl with a crush. He was smiling, talking, taking small drinks from his cup as he put the moves on some girl I had never seen before. He knew I was watching. Maybe it was some mind game, or trick, or perhaps just a small misunderstanding. 
> 
> No.
> 
> Misunderstandings don’t happen at every single party."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snap to learn when I update- analphancones

“Spotlight,   
Moonlight,  
Nigga why you trippin’?  
Get your mood right.   
Shawty look good in the moonlight.” 

 

Maybe I was just crazy for thinking he looked so good talking to other people. It happened a lot lately. Every time we went out he seemed like he had a million people he’d rather be talking too than me. That was okay though. 

I saw him through the glass doors leading to the balcony. His pale skin was illuminated by the glow of the full moon. His eyes too. Like a green and blue vortex that could transport anyone he chose into another dimension. 

A dimension of pure confusion. Like an acid trip that was somehow bad and yet made you never want to leave. He was an acid trip. A nightmarish, addicting acid trip. Maybe this was how Peep felt every time he got high like that. Maybe it’s why he never sobered. 

Would I ever sober from Phil’s clutches? 

It’s not like he had even done anything wrong. 

Yet. 

I guess maybe him and I were just different in social scenes like this. 

Here I was in someone else's home, in adidas slides and sweats. There he was with one silver tooth, a slick tongue and a 2009 freshly tatted on his neck. He was starting to fit in with the rap scene more than I, an actual rapper did. Before I knew it he was going to be making music. I wondered why 2009. I never asked properly, he had only told me it was a good memorable year for him. I guess that was enough for me. 

He looked so good. My fingers knotted in my own hair as I stared at him like a schoolgirl with a crush. He was smiling, talking, taking small drinks from his cup as he put the moves on some girl I had never seen before. He knew I was watching. Maybe it was some mind game, or trick, or perhaps just a small misunderstanding. 

No.

Misunderstandings don’t happen at every single party.


	9. He Had Done Nothing Wrong. Yet.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan faces another hardship that further distracts him from Phil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snap for updates- analphancones

“Mhmm  
Baby I don’t understand it.   
You’re changing,   
I can’t stand it.   
My heart can’t take this  
Damage.   
And the way I feel,  
Can’t stand it.”

 

When the news came that Jah had died I slipped into something deep for a few weeks on end. 2017 and 2018 had taken two of the best artists and people I had ever known. 

When Peep died, Phil comforted me through every mood swing, every ounce of heartbreak, every time I sobbed myself to sleep. 

Now he is as cold as the body we are watching enter the ground. His eyes are blank, it’s like the life I had fallen in love with was draining so slowly. Yet I still saw just enough I was more in lover than ever. 

Call it grief or stupidity or whatever you will. 

I was in love. 

As the service ended I lit up a Newport, crying through each exhale of smoke. Phil grabbed my hand loosely, staring down at his phone as I got everything out. He didn’t care, or at least he acted so. Yet the way his skin felt convinced me otherwise. 

He was always so warm. He felt like electricity powering me through every piece of hurt I was feeling. I looked over at his phone briefly, his emojis open as he clicked a couple heart eyes. He sent the message and clicked it off, looking at me firmly and flashing a guilty and comforting smile. He kissed my forehead. 

He had done nothing wrong yet. 

Not that I knew or could prove. 

So as aways, I pretended it was going to be alright between us. Because everything else I was already feeling was too much to bear, I didn’t need to add anything on top of that.


	10. That Part Was Unusual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> N/A

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snapchat for updates- analphancones

“She said,  
I,   
Oh I,   
Am fallin’ for you,  
Fallin’ for you,   
I,   
Oh I,   
Am fallin’ for you,   
Fallin’ for you.” 

His smile was so much sweeter when it was for someone else. He recently started dropping music within my label. I wanted to hate it, I wanted to be so far away from this scene I couldn;t look back even if my head spun all the way around. Now it seemed I was even more trapped. For now even if I took all my savings and left, the man I loved was here. 

I didn’t want to leave my career behind of course not. I only day dreamed about it a lot. Dreaming about it was a somewhat all night endeavor. I just wanted to live the rest of my life without a care in the world. That was the plan at least. Now I had every reason to care and to care too much in fact. 

I didn’t think he was seeing anyone else. I just knew, and had known for a while, that maybe if he was given the chance he wouldn’t mind. He surrounded himself with women constantly. I didn’t even know if he liked women until recently. Maybe I did. Things were getting fuzzy. Even things from a few hours ago I couldn’t remember. 

I would like to say it was from drugs like when all my friends have memory problems but no. I was just living through this depression bought, dissociated from reality day in and day out. Even as I snap out of it slowly, I realize I’m slipping back into the grips of reality and allow myself to fall back out of my own body and mind. It’s easier not to be me, even if no matter what I always will be. At least mentally I am offered some escape. 

It was really late. It wasn’t unusual for him to be gone late though. The sun was starting to push itself up over the hills and my vision was blurring, sight focusing and unfocusing on the front door like a camera. I just wanted the door knob to twist because as soon as it did, I could sleep knowing he was home. I haven’t slept in days. 

He’s been gone days. 

That part was unusual.


	11. Clout Goggles And Beer Goggles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan is blinded by liquor and heart ache, and Phil is blinded by clout and a world he's never been in before. It doesn't bode well for the couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snapchat for updates on when I post- analphancones

People were starting to worry about me. Everybody except Phil it seemed. 

I tried to get down the stairs without stumbling but failed, throwing down the empty bottle I held and falling back onto the top step. I took a deep breath, my eyes watering. I was drunk and Phil had only been home two nights this week. It was hard to think he could party that hard that long without doing something I wouldn’t like. 

Which I know could mean a multitude of things but more or less I mean- what are the odds he isn’t sleeping around at all these Hollywood and LA parties?

Part of the reason I stopped leaving my house as much, not that I did a lot to begin with being antisocial and all, was out of fear of what I would hear through the grapevine. I had already heard a few just through the buzz of social media. Knowing Phil wouldn’t text me back or call even if I was dying, I had shut off my phone almost a week prior. I didn’t need to be on it anymore. 

Not when pictures of Phil and Lola Lee were circulating. Apparently they had been spotted at a party together. Funny that the paparazzi would do this story, funny how it’s trending on twitter. Funny how Phil didn’t even send a text or call or god forbid come home long enough to clear up the rumors. 

No when he does come home he curls into bed with me and allows me to sleep just long enough before getting up and leaving again. 

“I love you.” 

My voice is weak as the door shuts. His side of the closest is almost cleaned out. I wonder where all his things are going. I wonder if he’s just out and about so much he got himself a place closer to the action. That would be alright I think, if he had talked to me about it. 

I brought him here. I put him here. Why is he so adamant on making me regret it? 

Does he even mean too? 

Surely he has to have some sort of conscious knowledge of what he was doing and how it had to be affecting me. Maybe he was blinded by clout. Maybe he didn’t care. Maybe from the day we met this was his goal and he was playing me just until he could be here. Whatever the answer may be, I don’t even think I wanna know it. 

My eyes were red and puffy on the underside. I finally got myself up and into the downstairs bathroom. I originally tried to get down the stairs for another drink but now I had to piss. Broken glass glittered on the middle steps, I could see it out of the corner of my eye as I turned the corner to the bathroom. 

The mirror was dirty. I hadn’t even allowed my housekeeper inside in fear of people seeing me like this. Or maybe she knew something. I just needed to be cut off from the world until this all blew over. Until Phil took off his clout goggles and came home, ready for me to love him the way I promised I always would. 

My lips were chapped and my skin was dry, I can’t even remember the last time I had taken a shower. I felt awful. I looked awful. Was I always this ugly? If so- no wonder Phil was out and about all the time. I wouldn’t wanna look at me either. 

I wonder why he picked Lola Lee. She was a model and dancer that appeared in a lot of videos, as well as a producer. She was tall and thin, long long legs and smooth skin. Her body was curvy and her natural hair was always dyed bright red. She was gorgeous, I knew that. Prettier than me, this much anyone could tell. 

Still- looks aside. How’d they meet? Why is he on twitter holding her hand at Miley Cyrus’ house? Maybe they’re just friends. 

I turned on the tv as I finished my bathroom biz and got my drink, plopping on the couch and groaning softly. Everything hurt. I flipped the channels, some news station suddenly flashing a photo of my fiance. I hurried to turn up the volume. 

“Phil Lester- rapper and boyfriend of fellow artist Dan Howell- was arrested tonight inside of the Moreno Valley Mall. Viewers and witnesses say he became belligerent after a now former fan asked to take a photo with him, asking the question fans are still wondering, especially after tonight; where’s Dan?” 

His mugshot flashed on the screen as the voice of the supposed fan in question faded in, her clip side by side with the arrest footage now. 

“I’ve seen him all over twitter with Lola Lee, and Dan has been in complete cyber darkness. Either way I like both their music so I wanted a photo.” The young girl has been crying, her lip split and her hand held flat across her chest and on her arm. She was clearly distraught. “So I asked for a photo. After I got it-” The photo of the two showed on the screen. “I asked how Dan was, where he’d been. He hasn’t been on social media at all and with so many people in the scene dying..I’m just a really big fan.” 

My eyes widened a bit as the story played out. I ran upstairs once it hit commercial and grabbed my phone, turning it on for the first time in five or six days. I had hundreds of texts and tweets and meaningless things I could care less about as I called my assistant. I sent her the money to pay his bail, requesting she go and get him immediately. 

I could have gone myself but I needed him home now. I didn’t have time to get dressed or go somewhere and risk being recognized. Also- the thought of walking out my own front door made me want to hurl. 

I kept ignoring calls as I worked out the details through text, not even bothering to see who was trying to reach me. Finally I answered, putting it on speaker as I texted Kiara in real time. She was on her way to the police station now. 

“What do you want?” I snapped as the connection settled and I clicked out of the call center. 

“Don’t bail Phil out.” Tommy tried to convince me. 

“Why? He got mad. It happens.” I rolled my eyes. I was blinded in a way myself. 

Really, it wasn’t Phil who was blinded by clout. It was I who was blinded by love that wasn’t there. Not on the other end, at least. 

“Because he’s cheating on your with Lola Lee? Because he assaulted a teenager in a mall? Because for three days he’s been so coked out of his mind he sold a bunch of gucci to a drug dealer just to get a strain of weed named after him? He’s out of his fucking mind!” 

“No. He just needs my help. He’s not used to our lifestyle!” 

“He never will be!” Tommy cried out. “It’s not for him! It’s killing his brain, Dan, he’s not the guy we met at a gas station anymore! He’s a fucking clout monster!”

“No. No no no. he’s blinded by it, not a monster for it!” I defended him with everything I had. My brain wouldn’t take the loss. 

“Dan please. Please don’t do this. No one has seen you in weeks. You’re not online, our label is pissed because you’re supposed to be working on a new album, please Dan? This guy is killing you. He’s killing himself.” 

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!” I screamed, tears finally starting to fall. I needed to cry. “He needs me! I can help him! We’ll be fine we don’t need you!” 

“Dan-” I hung up, throwing my phone and pulling my knees to my chest. He’d be here soon. Everything would be better once he was home. 

I needed him. 

Maybe I was too drunk to know I was making a mistake bringing him home. After all, it could be the liquor and beer telling me I needed him. 

Or maybe, I really did need him. He just didn’t need me. I just wanted him too.


	12. This Couldn't End Well, Could It?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snap for updates- analphancones

New girl every week now it seems. Twitter is always what gets me to shut off my phone. Trending- Phil Lester and Izzie Jane- blah blah blah blah. 

I licked the edge to the blunt, closing it, my finger gently rolling it together. I put an end to my lips, lighting the green. I didn’t need him anyway. I had money, drugs, I had friends, I had family. What was one man on my path to everything I ever wanted? 

Apparently- everything. 

I at least began working on my new album. I wasn’t one to start drama in my community but every time my pencil touched the notepad all that I could muster was hate. Hate toward everyone on and off the scene involved with him, hate toward him, hate toward myself. What was wrong with me?

The door opened. He passed by me and kissed my cheek softly, jogging up the steps. Only minutes later he came back down and out the door he was again. This was the first time I’d seen him all day and all I got to show for it was a lousy kiss? Wordlessly he walked past, the door shutting in my peripheral view. 

I rolled my eyes, setting the blunt on the edge of the ash tray while I jotted down a line. I picked it back up to read off what I had so far. 

I couldn't release this. It was all so obviously about Phil. 

All anyone had heard from me was complete radio silence in months now- except for when Phil was arrested. And even so I wasn’t the one who spoke up in defense of his actions, or talked to the media, or walked him down the courthouse steps. Kiara did everything. Everytime I stepped outside I wanted to throw up. I think I was becoming agoraphobic. 

I tossed the notebook aside, deciding that was enough for tonight and finishing my smoke. I stood up, my back crackling all the way down as I made my way up the steps. I looked around the room, wondering what he had grabbed. Nothing was obvious so I gave up rather quickly, shutting off our bedroom light and pacing up and down the hall now. 

I paced a lot. It was something I got from my dad. It was funny actually- every single family gathering you wouldn’t even have to look twice before you’d notice myself, my grand dad and father all pacing in various areas in the house. It was generational stress relief I suppose. 

Yet for once in my life I was getting nowhere. I guess decisions needed to be made. I guess technically I should just change the locks and say I’m done with this shit. I walked back to my room and turned on my phone, once again ignoring everything waiting for me and texting Kiara for the first time in days. 

“I want my locks changed and make it public- I’m done with Phil Lester.” I typed out shakily, hitting send before I even had time to change my mind. 

I swallowed hard and clicked off my phone. This couldn’t end well, could it?


	13. The Diss Track

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan changes his locks and Phil releases a diss track.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snapchat for updates- analphancones

The video was everywhere almost overnight. Not even days after it went public- the smallest gesture that showed just how done I was- his song blew up. 

The video wasn’t cheap either, someone wanted this out now and knew how well it would do. Everytime I refreshed it felt like it hit another thousand, than hundred thousand, than million, then double digit millions. It was global. 

“Mad I wouldn’t put up with you just cuz you’re cute?// Just because that’s what you’re used too?// Get over yourself, Howell.// Washed up nerd with a big mouth ,too loud.//” 

I couldn’t believe this. Tears were brought to my eyes. Not even a minute in the four minute diss against me, I was full on sobbing. It only got worse. 

“Enough dirt on you to murder you,// and that goes for your career too.// Tell the world how you begged,// how you was pissing down your leg,// scared to be alone again.// So you cry on the phone,// bout how it feels to be alone,// while I’m out,// sat down,// blacked out,// hopin to catch a bone.

Different girls on my dick,// in your bed sendin’ pics,// to everyone BUT you,// And I know Imma get shit,// but if im fuckin up my rep,// I’m fuckin’ yours too,// And don’t even dare try and say it isn’t true.

Tell the world how you was so fuckin ugly,// while you was beggin to fuck me,// I was doin’ shots in the other room,// gettin’ ready to show you what this dick can do,// 

Thanks for bringin me to L.A,// puttin’ these girls in my face,// so I could put you in your place. Did a live show about how you love me,// when you couldn’t even fuck me?// Unless I was fucked by weed firstly,// six shots to the face,// just to stare at your face,// until I busted on your face,// yeah, hope you liked the taste,” 

I slammed my laptop shut, pulling my knees to my chest as I sobbed out every emotion I was feeling. I couldn’t even finish listening to it. How could he let that stream? How could he send that out? How could he produce that and feel nothing negative about it? 

I wiped my eyes, looking down at my phone. From every which was I was getting hate, death threats, such anger even from fan accounts. It felt like the world was turning against me.


	14. You Were A Crier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan claps back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snap for updates- analphancones

“Been three months still no word,   
I don’t deserve it. 

I know you ain’t finding better than me,   
Even though I’m far from perfect.

Wrote a diss on me?   
That’s all you could do? 

Say everything everyone in the world,   
Know ain’t true? 

Talk about how you had to be drunk to fuck me. 

At least tell the whole truth,   
About all the shit you put me through,   
All the times I begged for you?   
Hahaha.” 

I threw my head back, the track stopping and starting again as I went all out. I needed this to be perfect for when it dropped. Sure maybe retaliating against an ex as a rapper was low class. But I needed the world and all my fans to see my side too. 

“You think you on the top,   
Let me tell the world you lost. 

When I wanted to be top,   
You’re who let me climb that top. 

Nah, 

Fuck you didn’t let me,   
You asked me. 

Nah fuck, 

You ain’t ask me.   
You begged me. 

Screamin’ 

“Please Dan wreck me,   
Make me feel like nobody.   
Call me names,   
Tear my ass,   
I’ll throw it back, 

Moan your name,   
Let the whole world know who the fuck owns this ass.” 

Whatever. 

It’s not like I care,   
Cuz you’re who starting all this beef. 

Mad I changed the lock?   
Fuck you don’t miss me. 

You miss my paycheck,   
And that’s clear, 

And if I had known just a few years  
Prior- 

That after sex you were a 

Crier 

I would have hit it once

And let that dick retire

Yeah baby you showed me, 

Just how fucking nasty a nigga can be.” 

The words were jumbled and rushed and that was the point because so where his. We were showing each other and the world that we hated each other now after almost two years of being together. 

I was no longer heart broken. 

I was looking to make money. As much money as I could. Even if it meant beefing with an ex.


	15. Tell Me You lxve Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was honestly just an excuse to talk about a song I like chapter. 
> 
> Follow my snapchat to learn when I update, write new fics or if you just wanna know the writer (god knows why because I'm fucking garbage) -analphancones

When I was in school I found myself listening to quite a lot of angry music. I don’t know why, exactly. My usual taste differed quite significantly. Yet, there were days I would get into somewhat of a funk- and that’s when I would bust out the angry playlist. 

Sometimes those day long funks turned into days- and days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and by the time I graduated I found my playlist had grown to a size quite possibly two times bigger than what I for so long considered my “actual” music taste. 

So, I soon decided to cut myself off from all of that anger and frustration because while for so long I thought this music was helping me cope, I now realize what it was really doing. It was fueling a fire within me I didn’t even know I had started all those years ago when i first discovered the genre. 

Yet now, after almost ten years of being a graduate and making the decision not to let music generalize my mood in a way that inflicted long term mental health damage, I was back on the playlist- and it was growing once more. 

“Tell me how you think that you did nothing,   
Tell me how I’m someone that you hate now.   
Tell me that I’m really fucking nothing.   
All I ever feel is fucking hate now” 

I had just discovered this artist. Another british lad I had never really heard of as his style was so vastly different than what I was used too and what I typically enjoyed. I guess his music never crossed my path until I began to relate and need lyrics and a style like this to feel like I wasn’t the only person feeling so much anger. 

“I want to take a knife to my skull,   
Just to tear your face-  
From my fucking brain.” 

Scarlxrd as he was called. While maybe the words and singing style didn’t require all the brain power in the world I could give it one thing- it was raw and emotional. It was pain on display. Which I happened to find quite brave when artists displayed pain in not only their words but their tone of voice. I had released quite a few things that I felt showed how I felt but nothing like this. Nothing so raw. Nothing so-so. 

Personal. 

Even the feud with Phil which has since quilted over the last month was just anger and pettiness. There was nothing I had produced quite this up close and personal with the inner mechanics of my mind. I wanted to- no I strived- to produce something this real. 

“Tell me you’ll still kiss me like you love me.   
You’re the only one I can taste now.   
I really fucking love it.   
You wanna beat me with my face down.   
Beat me some more.   
You bitch.   
Your elegant smile is violent.   
Fuck.”


	16. Procrastination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snapchat for updates- analphancones

“Get the fuck away from me, 

I hate all of you faithfully, 

This world was never made for me. 

Thankfully I’m trained to see, 

Passed all the lies, 

The ranks and scenes. 

I’ll shank my knees then walk the plank and 

Freeze.” 

One of my favorite examples of raw emotion would be from this song. Antarctica by good friends of mine- stage name $uicideBoys$. 

The end of the lyric Oddy’s voice cracks. It breaks my heart to know other people are in just as much, if not worse pain, than I am in. 

I need to get the courage to leave my house. I’ve only gone to the studio and home in so long. I couldn’t give you exact measurements of time. Everything is blending together. I don’t know the date, time, month or year off hand. My brain feels like it’s shutting down. I just want this to be over. 

Phil’s twitter posted this morning something big was coming with the side eye emoji. I thinl he’s releasing something else about me. I wanted to address it, maybe talk to him and ask to stop this. But the profit we were both making and the outlet this gave me and the excuse this gave me to produce more emotional, real things was fantastic. 

Truth be told I was torn between peace or money and opportunity. 

As always I procrastinated making a choice between the two and simply put in my headphones again, pressing play.


	17. I Hated Him

“Roll a blunt and take it a hit.   
Start staring at the smoke as it twists and disappears.   
Peer pressure don’t affect me bitch I take drugs on my own.” 

 

He comes crashing in. Months of online war. Musical war. Lyrical, personal, moral war between us. 

His breath smells like liquor and his eyes say he hates me. But when his hands touch my skin it’s a different story. 

It’s ease and familiarity that draws me in. Something warmer then the mouth of a bottle. Something softer than paned glass on my finger pads. 

Whomever cared to follow was aware of the turmoil. Every nasty thing he’s ever said about me he’s sure to make public. His lines run through my head as his body presses on mine, telling a new story from his lyrics. 

“Beg bitch,   
Beg bitch,   
Beg bitch,   
Beg. 

Piss runnin down your leg,   
Blood rushin to your face. 

You don’t know me.   
You don’t own me. 

Bitch you’re just a toy,   
Act like I own thee.” 

Disgusting foul words from a foul man. 

His lips are on my throat. What I should feel is shame but instead I beg for more. Our hips thud in silent fluid motions, the room echoing with cries of lust and hatred. 

I hit the side of his head, screaming “Is that the best you can fucking do?” And he growls. 

A noise that turns my stomach into knots. He flips us, ripping the back of my hair as he slides back in. He’s hitting me, the sound going so quickly my ears almost couldn’t catch it beyond my screaming and tears. 

“Cum covered lips,   
Versus cum covered tits.   
Of course I like fucking girls,   
I’m not always on that faggot shit” 

 

His hands held my arms behind my back, right along the deep arch. He held me down with all his body weight as he pounded every ounce of anger his songs spoke. 

I hated him. 

I hated him. 

I hated him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snap for updates @analphancones


	18. The Other Side- sneak peak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nxt few chapters will be Phil's perspective. So here's a sneak peak at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my snap to learn when I update- @analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V

 

“When you cry,   
You waste your time.   
Over boys you never liked.

Could you not  
Be so obvious?”

`````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Titled- rejected lyrics

 

I don’t even like him. I don’t wanna see him. But dammit I want to be in him. 

I don’t mean to sound like a broken record. When I think of him I’m mad, then I think a little harder and I’m in his bed. 

Glass shattered on the ledge. Just to sneak in before they see me with him. 

Now I’m not a singer or a poet. 

But I know when I want someones attention. 

I left him and I hold it. 

Closely cuz it’s the only 

Way he’ll know me. 

And his voice makes me whirl, I get so nauseous. 

And my stomach starts to twirl, into knots now this. 

Doesn’t mean I like him. 

All it means is that I know him. 

Out of context that seems distant. 

But it means what it means, 

I know him. 

I’d fuck him. 

I’m fucking him. 

I’m in his room. 

I’m all alone. 

There’s a body on me, 

‘GET THE PHONE’ 

I can’t see him, 

But I’m in him, 

And I know. 

It's so scary and very

Likely to happen tomorrow” 

 

\-----------------------------------------


	19. So Why Can't I Stop Seeing Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snap for updates- @analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V

It’s an unexplainable feeling, how I am toward cigarettes. 

Without one in my hand I become fidgety. That would just be straight addiction but to me it feels like more. It’s soft between my fingers. Like new sheets, or a fresh shave. Between my lips it’s the same. A texture most find unwelcome against their mouths, I have become accustomed too. 

In my lungs the smoke feels like my only good breath. The air feels still in my lungs, whereas the smoke brings them to life. I like when things become addicting in my life. I’m creature of habit, routine. I like doing the same things over again. Especially things that make me feel alive. 

Maybe that’s why I can’t stop seeing Dan. 

When my soon to be fiances skin is on mine it’s an entirely different sensation. Rose petals and bone, her skin is ice to the touch with volcanic ash hidden underneath, glowing the moment my finger tips touch her skin. The ice melts and suddenly she’s a real person again. 

I liked taking acid. I gave me new perspective on old sensations. I had never thought so intently about skin texture in my life. I rushed over the same day to see Dan. I needed to document the difference. 

His skin was reptilian, in the shadows of his room his silhouette was enough to draw me in for the rest of the night. I could see his frame in gray against his walls as his head bobbed up and down. My fingers gripping the sheets in defeat. His mouth felt better than anything ever had in my life. I doubted then and there I’d never feel such pleasure again. 

I never did. Not with him or anything else. Still should be said, the only times I ever got close again were with him. Sober, high, drunk, geeked, nothing made a difference in performance or attraction to my partner. Dan still had hold on me sexually above any and all other partners. 

It was haunting and drawing. I think it came from a place of guilt. I portray him in the media as something he is not. Not, particularly. I think as I’ve stated, he is a leech. Worming his wya into people’s lives with his mediocrity. He is nothing special. 

So could be said it's just that- his nothing special-ness that makes him special. That however is a whole other topic to be discussed. 

So objectively he was unspectacular. Unexpected at first sure, but then once he is known he is simple. As am I. As are most people. 

So why can’t I stop seeing him?


	20. I Want To Try Some Thing- A Letter To Dan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow on snap for updates- @analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V

Maybe I am just too complicated a creature to use such complications to justify myself as a good person. 

Maybe this is all objective. 

I decided to write Dan a letter. 

 

 

Enclosed-

Dear Dan. 

I find myself asking questions I think only you could answer. I also find when we do have time to meet there is often little time for much conversation. For the most part, I like that. 

Then the questions ring and ring. 

Are you as depressed as I assume? Do you cry into bottles each night? Is the glass the only touch you know, until I show up? Do you lust after every touch even after the second it’s gone, because you don’t know when you’ll feel such- to your perception at least- love?

I suspect you do all of the pitiful things I assume. While amusing it’s also troubling. I find myself missing you. Don’t write back. Just give me a sign you’re ready to talk. I want to try something.


	21. Try New Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snap for updates- @analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V

 

Slow piano. He looks stunning actually. Black and white suit and bow-tie, everything clad to the right places and loose the same. Sometime’s the boring face I always saw him with could transform into beautiful simplicity. These were the moments that tricked me into “loving” him. 

“I don’t wanna waste-   
My love on someone  
Who-   
Doesn’t want to see wedding  
Rings and roses and   
Beautiful things. 

You wasted time on me.   
Instead of trying new things.” 

His lyrics seemed strangely cryptic, and yet- right. He had some bright musings. I always did sort of like his writing style. While sloppy, his slower songs were alright. I smiled and turned it up on my phone slightly. 

“Travel the globe-  
But do it alone.   
Why involve me in your self growth?

I hope you heal,  
Without me there. 

I’m sick of you-  
Causing me despair. 

So try new things,   
But do it without me” 

 

Without you? Hmmm.


	22. Oh Dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snap for updates- @analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V

 

Dan has began dating again. Yet we are still sending most of our time together.

“Yeah, treat her like a bitch  
I fuck her in the ass and I fuck her in the tits  
If she can handle that then I'll let her suck my dick  
And her man is coming back so I better make it quick  
Yeah, you know who you are you piece of shit  
Your girlfriend's always sucking on my dick like a Slim Jim stick  
So next time you go down on her clit  
Tell me how my dick tastes  
Tell me how my motherfucking dick tastes!” 

I began listening and enjoying music specifically geared toward the situation. I like lyrics that reflected our mutual infidelity to our new partners. I hit loop on the song. This one also happened to make me laugh a lot too. 

“Oh I'm sorry man, I didn't know!  
JK, JK, I knew all along!  
And she's sucking on my hose  
I go twelve inch deep in the pussy  
After twenty minutes you can drive a fucking Jeep in the pussy  
Know what I'm talking 'bout?  
Smack her in the pussy  
When I pee it burns  
Let it burn like George Bushy  
I regret to inform you I fucked your girl's pussy  
Man I swear I didn't know  
JK, JK, JK, JK I knew all along!  
I just fucked your girl before this song  
And I know it's kind of wrong  
When she's sucking on my dong  
And she's so fat like a land whale  
Uh, shoot that poon with a harpoon  
Yeah, I just wanna lick a whale in the fucking whale pussy  
That's why I fucked your fat girlfriend you fucking nerd!” 

I rolled back with laughter. I want to write something with a similar vibe to this one. 

Pink Guy huh? I think I remember the pink guy thing being from the filthy frank channel a few years ago. I know he makes music now, nothing like this though. Wonder what made him make that switch. 

 

On the magazines and internet articles yu see Dan’s new boo taking him to lunch, the theater, traveling. He seems like the man of ans dreams. All up until I have Dan’s lips and teeth back against my throat, neck and shoulders. 

“Not a lot of love  
Rollin' in the coupe and she was rollin' off the drugs  
Lookin' for the one, girl, you know that I'm the plug  
I be booted up with my shooters in the truck  
Ay, and broski keep it and it's tucked  
Nigga talkin' 'bout it, but he never runnin' up  
Put this shit in motion, so I'm never stayin' stuck  
Don't be actin' starstruck every time they show you love  
Ay, but now they tell me I switched up  
Take this Backwood to the face, then grab my cup  
Shorty say she comin' through, she on her way to fuck  
It's a lot of lust, not a lot of love  
Ay, I stack it up, can't get enough  
Seen your shorty with you, she look at me and she blushed  
I'm a jiggy nigga, I don't take her out for lunch  
It's a lot of lust, not a lot of love  
Ay, bitch, not a lot of love  
It's a lot of lust, not a lot of love  
Ay, bitch, not a lot of love  
It's a lot of lust, not a lot of love” 

While I want to ask him what drives him to cheat with me- I do the same. And to my own situation I also do not know the answer. I have a beautiful, smart and successful fiance. But sexually- he is al that will satisfy me. 

Oh dear.


	23. BLOCKED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow on snap for updates- @analphancones

Dan’s P.O.V

 

“Rapper Phil Lester takes to instagram to reveal the meaning behind new face tattoo-

“It’s kinda like- like growth past my ex. I know you shouldn’t get tattoos about lovers or spite or exes and I sort of did all of those things.” 

The tattoo placed on the side of the temple, above the eyebrow happens to be of a tree with the name Dan etched onto the trunk seemingly to imitate as if a knife had carved it. The whole thing can be explained by the giant red X tattooed over the intricate design.

Months after Dan Howell was spotted leaving Lester’s residence on Hollywood Hills in the middle of the night; looking seemingly distressed by the spotting of the camera Howell can be seen in the footage shown speeding away in his all black custom matte Tesla. 

So with all this in mind fans are wondering- 

Was there an affair between the two? Is this why Lester’s fiance’s social media presence seemed to drop when the footage was leaked? Does this new tattoo mark the official end of the worlds favorite rapping couple?” 

I shut off the tv and groaned, picking up my phone and letting my thumb hover over the call button. 

555-379-8164. 

Just one click and he would come. I know he would. 

Yet when I click the button it goes straight to voicemail. 

It does that for days on until I realize he must have blocked me. 

How fucking dare he block me.


	24. Decades Old Paint And A Freezing Golden Frame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snap to learn about updates and the author- @analphancones

Dan’s P.O.V

 

The soundtrack to Twilight shouldn’t have went as hard as it did. Seriously, it’s a trash movie franchise. Still, waiting for someone you love to come home, you get bored. My boyfriend is gone on tour- I opted not to go. But he isn’t who I’m waiting for. 

Who I’m waiting for is the only person I crave. 

I’m having withdrawals it feels like. For a smile that allows me to feel my bones crack and twist with every movement I make. The blood in my body I can feel drain from my brain toward places I can’t talk about without biting my lower lip at the very memory. My veins feel wider, each blood cell drifting through them carelessly against his fingers as he holds down my wrists- flashing that damn smile. 

His skin feels like worn leather, washed and softened over time. Familiar the same way. I have stopped being able to recognize the feeling of my own body unless it wasn’t against his. It’s like I was in status until he was nearby. 

Perhaps, I exaggerate. 

The half over movie goes mute in my mind as my head turns, time slowed down. The lock all the way down the steps, down the hall. Passed the hum of my refrigerator, passed the ticking clock on my wall, passed the blare of Muse. I hear the lock tick. I stand up, dropping the remote as I click off the tv and move down the stairs. 

He comes into my view an he takes the stairs two at a time. The world doesn’t click back into real time until he’s at the top of the steps. My breathing had been stopped for God knows how long- only caught again in a sharp inhale once his lips were against mine. 

Hands slide under my thighs, lifting my feet from the cold floor they stood. My back hits a wall, a portrait is now behind me, my hair and neck hit by decades old paint and a freezing golden frame. I have goosebumps as he makes me his again. If only for a night.


	25. I Am Obsessed With Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snap for updates ig- @analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V 

 

I guess we had not moved on with our lives as we thought. After only a year I broke off my marriage. Dan did the same with his own relationship. We had stopped caring when we were caught sneaking around. We had deleted all social media- still producing music as usual but keeping our network to a minimum. It was all so low key. 

It must be nice however, to be among those who know when they will be speaking to their partner next. I use partner broadly- as we are not together. Except when we’re done with what we say we are only there for, the sex, he stares at me. 

With soft dimples and light skin, twisted up and overlapping teeth shining at me. His eyes aren’t distant, in fact they radiate tenderness toward me as his arm slings behind his head, his other reaching down to pull our fingers together in a braid. 

I can’t help but notice every detail about him. How his arm over his head creates this obvious crease between his arm and shoulder. It’s cute actually. How his neck does the same. He’s so broad, not fat or even chubby- not muscular either. Just broad. Yet delicate. 

How his pale lips stretch thin but glisten with now drying saliva and how teeth marks on his lower lip slowly regain shape and pop back up to mold with his mouth once more. I notice each pore and acne scar. Each nook and cranny of any hitm of wrinkles, stress, fat or muscle. I see everything. 

I am obsessed with him.


	26. I Am Realizing- He Needs This As bad As I Do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on snap- analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V

Over text message he confirms he’s outside. 

My palms are sweating, slipping through the cracks of my skin as it silently, unnoticeably drops onto the rug under my socks and feet. My body is as still as the air- nothing moved undetected with me right now. 

I could feel the shed of every hair follicle, every skin cell detach from another, every flicker of my eyes to the door waiting for him anxiously rolling like a marble on leather in my skull. I slid my hand up my arm, fingers ghosting every tattoo and texture it passed over memorizing it subconsciously. It wasn’t him. 

That’s all my brain could manage to tell me as my arm dropped back down and his cigarette smoke silhouette shadowed in. The window at the end of my hall let the full moon light in, the grey of his smoke loosening in the air as he dropped it straight to my floor and stepped it out. He took another step toward me and my heart thumped, deafening me to where all I could hear was loud ringing. 

He stepped through the thinning grey air, eyes looking up at me expressing his every thought and passing emotion he had in that moment. He slid his palm down my chest and back up my shirt, pushing me to the bed and crawling onto me. 

I am realizing- he needs this as bad as I do.


	27. All In The Form Of Obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow my snap- analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V 

When all this time I believed it was him obsessed with me. I theorized perhaps it was my pity that kept me coming. Or perhaps genuine physical (and only physical) attraction kept me around. Whatever it was- I never would have guessed the truth. 

We were connected. 

But how- and for what. I owe him everything I built since dropping my life to come here. Were we supposed to meet just so I could end up in a purgatory like state of obsession and sex. What had I done to deserve this? 

In a past life- was I a killer? Rapist? Worse. 

Why am I being punished like this? 

Achieving everything I ever wanted. Such as fame, money, drugs, the life of every low life’s dreams. All the liquor and ass I could ask for. Yet the inability to keep him as mine. Something drove me to cheat, to deceive, to lie and then keep coming back for more. Some other wordly force, right? 

Yes. Something pulls me to hurt him because it hurts me too. Someone or something is punishing me, hurting me, giving me everything I dreamed of all centered around one person I can never have. Something out there wants me to hurt him and myself. We both did wrong somewhere, some time, some way. We deserve this. 

Or, alternatively, I am an asshole and am only now realizing what I am missing. All in the form of obsession.


	28. All I Had To Do Was Follow Through

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me n snap- analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V

As he sleeps his skin is cold and scaly. What species is he. He is too perfect to be human. I kiss his shoulder, looking him over a final time. I need control. I am done being obsessed with someone. I want my own life back. 

Whoever cursed me with him can fuck off. Tonight it ends. A nice end it was too. 

His shirt slipping off his shoulders is how it started. I noticed he had lost weight, his collarbones deep and his skin velvet to the touch. Like sand he dissolved between my fingers with every touch. Like white noise each moan put me into a sleep like trance. Like hypnosis he lynches me toward him. 

Like a never ending void pulling my soul out of me through undisclosed regions he and I became one. As we did most every night. This time he sleeps soon after. Whoever cursed me with him knows of my plans. They are setting me up. He never sleeps over anymore. It’s almost too easy. 

I am now apprehensive to go through. Perhaps that is exactly what this otherworldly force wants. I will not give in. 

I touch his hair a final time. Silk and cotton and every alike material soft to the touch. His lips parted as he turned in his sleep, his eyelids fluttering gently. I would miss seeing the blue and purple veins only visible when he slept that lined his lids. 

I would miss the blood in his cheeks and dimples I’d never see again. But after this I would be free. 

It was already loaded and cocked. All I had to do was follow through. 

And so I did.


	29. You Don't Need To Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw- necrophilia kinda (not rlly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on snap- analphancones

Phil’s P.O.V

His skin is colder than before as the sun rises. He is pale. The blood rushing through him had quit. His clock had stopped. Dan Howell was no more. 

I keep looking him over. My god he is even more beautiful than before. His shiny brown hair was going grey. His chest no longer bounced with breaths. His stomach was finally as flat as he would have liked had he still been living. His organs were liquefying. 

I dragged my hands over him and couldn’t help but want him still. I ran down the steps finally after hours to turn the air on high. I wanted it freezing if it kept him as quiet, still and beautiful as he looked now. 

I sat up on my knees, leaning over him. I leaned down, scared, pressing my lips to the cold skin. It still felt like Dan. A Dan I could finally love and not hurt. He was mine fully now, for as long as I could preserve him. I didn't even want to think of the and then what. 

I pressed kisses all the way down his body, pushing his boxers aside slightly to kiss his hip bones. They were sunken in and his skin was soft. I think I was more obsessed with him now more than before. What happened next? 

You don’t need to know.


	30. Unison

Phil's P.O.V

When identical triplets walk into a room, it can be terrifying and fascinating. Each step they take synchronized, everything else too down to the sway of their hips and their hair blowing in the air. All of them equally as talented, violent and beautiful. All of them unavailable. 

While some feel disgust when they meet a polygamous triple- others are still accepting. Eve going so far as to advocate for it and protest for the right to marry whoever and however many you please. Even those supportive lose the ability to fight for their cause whenever they’re related. 

Before you leave in disgust and disbelief allow me to explain. 

When their mother fell pregnant she was a Korean immigrant in America illegally. The man who brought her here, along with her sisters, friends and husband, he lied about why he wanted to help them. He sold the women off, slaughtered the men and the children- well what happened to them is varied depending on who you asked. Not that anyone is alive anymore to tell the truth. 

The man who paid for their mother was the well off son of a politician. He was a burnout daddy paid to keep his existence unknown. The world believed this son had died in a tragic accident when he was 18. He lived the life most people could only dream of and all that he had to do in return was stay hidden. He didn’t mind. 

It meant whatever he did flew under the radar- even his father’s payments were made in cash. A man who was untraceable. He impregnated a beautiful, helpless woman who couldn’t so much as speak a word of English let alone defend herself. She died in childbirth.

The man had the decency to raise the children he bore. Or at least, he did what money could buy. These girls grew and grew, to an age where he looked at them differently. While for the first few years he managed to convince himself he was their father, and take care of them as such- it changed whenever they were no longer infantile. 

When all was said and done the girls returned to their own rooms, to the bed they shared, under the covers they shared. They stuck close. Learned to kick, bite and fight as a team. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Eventually they didn’t care. Whatever happened to them happened to them as a three. 

It started small. Kisses of comfort, sleeping a little too close even as they grew from children to women. Then one day they all three happened to discover, after all the painful ways they’d been touched, there were places and ways to touch each other than actually felt good. Led them to some comfort even.

One night, their father wasn’t opting for any of them. He had taken up with someone new. Someone they weren’t allowed to see, so much as hear speak, when she was visiting. Until one day even over the soundproof walls, they heard a gunshot. And another. And another. 

And their door slowly unlocked, creaking open. Hazel eyes read them like the morning paper, seeing everything, knowing everything. They didn’t know how but they were grateful to see her smile. Blood stained wooden cracks in the flooring as they stepped passed, barefoot and half clothed. They weren’t even allowed to wear clothes other than under garments. 

The girl who saved them was named Peach Casey. Previously known for running the biggest underground drug scene in all of America. Then her group expanded. And expanded. And expanded. Her original little team in England now- her work debatable on whether it’s helping or damaging the world. 

She put together a team to take over in America, keep business flowing. She had caught word of a spotting- three girls with the same face trying to crawl out a window and only getting half way down before they went back up- the sheets not long enough. She decided to check it out for herself. 

When she moved away with her husband Brian she left five people in charge of their businesses here. Alice, Ingrid and Anna of course, and then a man named Logan and his girlfriend Evie. Five seems to small to be running everything here and yet that’s just what they did- and they did it wonderfully. 

Now if you’re wondering why I am telling you all of this- through L.A. you hear talk when they come. When they come or just a couple or a few of them in this case, everyone who needs something from them directly tends to swarm. Afterall their minions can only do so much for the junkies of the US. 

Some come from the tales they’ve heard- such as of Gabriel Kelly. A man who came in a desperate addict and came out on top alongside the named every drug addict commonly knows- Brian, Peach, Leonard and Gabe. Some wish t emulate him and become the next addict paid to do what he did. The only issue is that there will never be another Gabe. He was one of a kind, as are everyone that are chosen for this lifestyle. 

I have come for a different reason. And now my eyes and mind couldn’t keep up with all three of them. 

“A murder?” Ingrid smiled, her sister leant up against her with their legs swung over in a twist with one another's. 

Alice slid off of them, grabbing Ingrid’s hand and kissing the back of it as she stood up. “Was it called for?” 

“No.” I cleared my throat. “No.” I repeated. 

Alice smiles at her sisters before they are all looking at me, heads to the side. “Was it for love?” They all ask at once. 

I swallow but my throat is dry, I nod, my fingers beginning to tap tap tap against the chair. 

“So what's the issue? We don’t do cover ups.” Anna said, hiding her face in her sisters neck. 

Ingrid smiles, moving her fingers through her hair. “What’s the issue Phil?” 

“What’s the issue Phil?” They all ask me. 

“I wanna do it again.” I said, almost in a plead. This peaks their interest further. 

“And?” They ask. 

“You run the drug and prostitution ring. Anyone you’d be willing to let die? And cover up. I have the money. Any price you name.” I ask. 

With knowing looks they all agree silently, speaking in unison. “What did he look like?” 

“How did you..know..” My throat stopped my from speaking. 

“What happened to his body?” 

“I still have it. It’s..not usable.” 

“Usable?” They all grin at me. “What did he look like?” 

I unfold a photo from my jacket pocket, handing it to Alice. Her heels click as she walks to sit with her sisters, all of them looking over it slowly. 

“We have nobody like this.” Alice. 

“We can find someone.” Ingrid. 

“They won’t be compliant.” Anna. 

“It’ll be a struggle.” Ingrid. 

“But you want that.” Anna. 

“How-how..” I couldn’t get them out of my head. 

“We’re here doing what we do for a reason.” Unison. 

“We’ll get you one a month for 100k. Cover Up for an extra 15 and if you get caught you die before you can tell anyone about our deal.” Alice. 

“Deal?” Unison,

“Deal.” I agreed.


	31. Luckily

Phil’s P.O.V

 

It’s never satisfying enough. Some of them only have his basic features. Some of them could be his twin. But it’s never the same. 

It’s never the worn warmth of his skin. When these..these things die- they never resemble him enough to fully quench my thirst for him. They lose light in the whites of their eyes just the same sure. But the undertones are off. Brown eyes aren’t just brown eyes- they’re gold and green and blue and forresty. They come in a variety and none of them are alike to Dan’s so far. Not enough. 

It at least filled the void enough I didn’t go completely crazy. Or, crazier. 

The routine was simple enough. The bodies were taken, the scene was clean. The price and delivery was always fair and on time. I had never been involved so heavily with criminals who treated what they did as if it was any other business. They were serious about their work. I liked that. 

The more folk I met within their network the more I saw things for what they were. These people genuinely took what they did seriously. Crime wasn’t just fun and games to them like most criminals often thought of it as. This was their livelihood. 

The triplets were a scary sort to be around. Intimidating in a way most criminals I have encountered could never live up too. I enjoyed being a customer in their overall network. I even guided some of my buddies toward their drug dealing and ring of hookers. While they started off small in Missouri with a handful of people- less than thirty. They are now international. Thousands working under the belt of the og’s who started it all. Terrifying business. 

Though I was advised too, I could never bring myself to get rid of what was left of my original Dan. He was mostly bone now- hidden in a deep freeze in some now remodeled areas of my home. Nobody knows what happened to him. He just up and went missing. No body meant no investigation so far as a murder. I really wasn’t under fire at all for his disappearance. Or maybe I was. My social media presence was lackluster. 

I wondered how long this could go on and what would happen exactly if I was caught.


	32. Beyond Ready

“Well, I know I should be moving on  
But I feel like I'm already gone  
Now if somebody'd only save me from  
This broken record that's playing in my heart

You know it's alright, I'm praying for the sunshine  
To get me through the hard times, to get me through the hard times  
You know it's alright, I'm praying for the sunshine  
To get me through the hard times, to get me through the hard time”

 

Phil’s P.O.V 

 

Each pair of brown eyes holds depth to them new to me. Gold hues and sun rays forgotten and unseen while those behind glass pane windows sleep soundly in their homes. Slept on purpose and dreams, forgotten lore and youth. 

Unknown and unseen pains and tragedies personal to the bodies lain out before me in all these past months. None of them comparable to the original. 

The beauty behind the first soft and fragile, whispered promises and threats. Bold and vocal opinions and heart. Tortured and lovely thoughts and words. I wanna say goodbye but there’s none of him left to speak too. None of him that would listen and comprehend and understand. I’m sheltered by my own insanity in past months. 

Bank account draining. Friendships abandoned into secrecy. Soon I will meet my own end as all these eyes and the original have. 

I’m beyond ready.

**Author's Note:**

> Listen this finna b shit but I wrote it after crying ab Peep dying
> 
> Follow me on snapchat to learn when I post- analphancones


End file.
